


It's Going to Be Okay

by mothteeth



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied abuse, protective ford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-18 20:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16524044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothteeth/pseuds/mothteeth
Summary: A person from your past tries to worm their way back into your life, using force if necessary. Ford isn't about to let that happen.





	It's Going to Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of almost like a partner fic to For Family, but in a completely separate universe. I wanted to make sure that people who like Ford can also have something comforting

The Shack is quiet for a Friday afternoon, but that works just fine for you. You’re sitting outside on a blanket, book in hand, enjoying the fading summer weather. You hear a car door slam, but don’t look up, just another tourist. A voice calls out your name and your belly fills with icy water. Your head snaps up, knowing that voice, knowing that face. It’s not something you could forget, despite how long it’s been. 

He walks over to you, hands in his pockets, looking vaguely uncomfortable. How dare he act like the odd man out right now. How fucking dare he try to act all awkward right now. “Hey, _____,” I heard you got a job around here in a lab or something, and figured I’d stop by. It’s been a while.” Yeah. Two years. Not fucking long enough. 

“Go away.” Is all you can get out without your voice shaking. 

“Don’t be like that. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I still love you, you know. I miss you. I just wanted to talk.” 

“I don’t want to talk. I told you I didn’t want to talk to you again when we broke up. I meant it.” You’re not going to let him see what him showing up has done to you. You force yourself to stop shaking and stand up, holding the book in front of your chest like a shield. 

“You don’t mean that. Look me in the eye and tell me that you haven’t thought about me. About us. And I’ll leave.” You can’t meet his eye. Of course you’ve thought about it, but you know better than to try to go back. You almost didn’t survive the first time. 

“Just. Go, please.” Your cold facade is starting to crack, and tears are threatening to well up. 

“It’s been hard without you. I miss you so much. Talk to me, please.” 

“Mark, I can’t. I just can’t.” 

“I almost killed myself when you left me. You owe me this much.” You jump, your eyes snapping to his. That’s a low blow. 

“Actually, I don’t think she owes you anything.” A voice behind you makes you jump, despite the familiarity of it.

Ford comes outside to find you after he realizes you haven’t come down to the lab to make him take a break. With the routine you’d fallen into, he’s become very accustomed to you coming to get him at regular intervals, and when you don’t, it sets off alarm bells. He tries to keep himself calm as he rationalizes why you haven’t come to find him, but, as he steps outside, he finds his worry justified. He can’t hear everything going on, but he can see the tension in your shoulders, your entire body willing you to run away. He’s only seen you like this once or twice, when you’ve talked about your ex. Oh no. That must be the man you’re talking to. Ford makes it to your side in seconds, but not before he hears something that makes his stomach twist. “.... you owe me this much.” He can’t help himself, and he speaks himself. The knot in his gut tightens when he sees you jump, but you don’t turn around, too afraid to take your eyes off of the threat in front of you. 

Ford takes your hand in his, and you squeeze tightly. He can feel the tremble of your fingers, and squeezes back reassuringly. “This isn’t your problem, man. Butt out.” 

“I think this is definitely my problem.” Ford says firmly. 

“Ford, it’s okay, I can handle this,” you murmur unconvincingly. 

“Yeah, Ford, this is between me and her.” Mark echoes. Ford is seeing red. 

“I’m not going anywhere. If you want to talk to ______, you’re going to have to do so with me right here.” Ford squeezes your hand again, and you lean into him slightly in gratitude. 

“______, will you tell whoever this is that it’s fine. I just miss you. I want to talk it out. To talk about us. Privately.” Mark gives Ford a sidelong glance. 

“Mark, Ford and I are.... We’re together.” You let go of his hand and put your arm around his waist. “You’re too late, so you can leave now.” 

“How could you? I did everything for you! You’re my whole world; you can’t do this.” Mark is crying, and the part of you that once loved him aches in sympathy, but you stand firm. 

In a split second Mark steps towards you, like he’s going to hit you, but before you can even flinch away Ford tackles him to the ground. Mark looks up incredulously as Ford pins his shoulders down. “What the fuck! I wasn’t actually going to hit her!” 

“So your plan was what, exactly? Intimidate her into talking to you?”

“No! I need to talk to her. _____, get your fucking boyfriend off of me!” You freeze. You can’t speak. Since Mark went to hit you your mind is blank and all you can do is shake numbly. 

“You lost your chance to talk, kid. Now, are you going to leave under your own power, or are you going out on a stretcher? Your choice.” 

“Damn, no need to get violent. ______, please. Help me out.” 

“You haven’t seen violent. Stop fucking talking to her, you don’t get to do that anymore.” Ford snaps.

With Mark still under him, Ford yells towards the shack. “Hey, Stanley, can I get a hand?” Stan comes out moments later. He’s momentarily stunned by the situation that Ford seems to be in, but as soon as he sees you shaking and crying, he knows what’s going on. “Could you take _______ inside for me? Stay with her for a bit while I take care of this.” Ford nods to the now squirming man under him. 

“Yeah. Sure.” and without anything further, Stan gently takes your hand and leads you into the house, wrapping you up in a blanket on the couch. 

Now that you’re safely in the house, away from any potential problems that might happen, Ford’s face sets, his voice dropping to a deadly tone. “Now, why don’t we have a chat?” Mark pales and swallows nervously. 

Stan hands you a mug of tea, steam still pouring off the top. You try to give him a grateful smile, but you can’t manage to make your mouth actually follow through with it. He sits on the opposite end of the couch before flicking on the tv. You’re not paying attention, too focused on not completely breaking down to notice anything. “He’s got this under control, kid. You’re safe. I know my brother, and he protects his family, and, like it or not, you’re his family now. He’s not letting anything happen to you.” That cracks the careful numbness you’ve built around yourself, and you burst out sobbing. Stan puts his hand on your knee soothingly, letting you cry. 

After maybe 20 minutes, Ford comes into the house. You jump off the couch, nearly falling on your face from the tangle of blankets around your legs, but Ford catches you before you hit the ground. You immediately bury your face in his chest, sobbing. He soothingly rubs your back “Shhh, darling. You’re okay. Everything is okay. He isn’t going to bother you again, I promise.” It’s better if you don’t know exactly what happened to Mark, and you don’t want to ask, so you don’t. Instead, you squeeze Ford tightly, unwilling to let go. You know he’s tough, but you were worried about him anyway. It seems so silly now, but you can’t help it. 

Your crying subsides after a while, and you’re buried by exhaustion. Between the panic and the crying, you’re entirely wiped. Your eyes are starting to close as you lean more heavily on Ford. He gently lifts you in his arms to take you to his study. He sets you carefully on the couch, setting up the blanket to cover you completely. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can rest. You’re okay.” He murmurs into your hair, kissing near your temple. Ford straightens up to leave, but you grab onto the hem of his sweater. “Stay, please.” you look at him pleadingly, despite your heavy eyelids. 

“Of course. I’ll be right here.” He settles next to your head on the couch, journal in hand, and begins to write. You wiggle closer and put your head in his lap with a sigh. Ford pets your hair gently until you fall asleep, finally feeling safe and secure. 

Ford hears your breathing slow and knows you’re asleep. The look on your face is the most peaceful it's been all day. It’s silly, but all he wants to do is capture this look, so he starts to sketch you into his journal, on one of the many pages dedicated to you. You may not be a true anomaly, but you’re definitely not an average person, not by a long shot.


End file.
